


Seduction, d’Artagnan style (with a little help from Aramis)

by The_Forgotten_Nobody



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, Humor, d'Artagnan is hopeless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:50:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1286710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Forgotten_Nobody/pseuds/The_Forgotten_Nobody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D'Artagnan finally gives in and decides to try and seduce Constance. Things do not go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seduction, d’Artagnan style (with a little help from Aramis)

**Author's Note:**

> This is in response to one of raouldehadleyfraser's/JEAikman's prompt: d'Art doing ridiculous things to make Constance laugh.  
> I still can't make anything short.

D’Artagnan needed help. Not the sort of ‘in danger, please assist’ sort of help. No, he needed help with a woman, namely Constance Bonacieux. For although d’Artagnan had promised to himself that he would not interfere with Constance’s marriage, he could see that she was truly not happy with her arrangement and d’Artagnan wanted to show to her that she had other options. That she did not need to be stuck with her husband, that d’Artagnan was really quite willing to treat her as she deserved.

The problem was that d’Artagnan had absolutely no idea of how to go about it and so he needed help.  After little deliberation, he decided that it would come best from Aramis. It was no secret the man was a charmer, able to seduce any woman without coming across as disrespectful or crude, and as such d’Artagnan was sure he would be able to impart some of his knowledge. After all, the man had been pestering d’Artagnan to make a move on Constance since they’d met and it was only stubbornness that had stopped him thus far.

Upon hearing his problems, Aramis gave d’Artagnan a sly smirk.

“So, finally decided to listen, have you? Well, tell me, what things does your dear Constance like?”

The first thing that came to d’Artagnan’s mind was learning how to fight, but considering their little sessions were supposed to be a secret, he thought of something else. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

“Um…I know she likes children,” he offered weakly and Aramis raised an eyebrow.

“Well, unless you plan on somehow impregnating her, or stealing some poor child as an offering, I think you ought to think of something else.”

D’Artagnan racked his brain for thought and Aramis gave a dramatic sigh. “Oh what did they teach you in Gascony? Right then, I think the first thing you should do is cook her dinner. Wait until there is a day she is out and set about making a surprise meal. Make sure there are flowers, all women love flowers and be sure to complement her. A woman loves to feel admired. And also, find some better clothes; I have something you may be able to borrow.”

Aramis continued to give tips on what d’Artagnan should do for his surprise date for Constance and it was two days later that he finally had his chance to put them into action. Monsieur Bonacieux was away on business, so he would not be an accidental witness to his lodger’s attempt to seduce his wife, and Constance was out.

He started with the meal. Aramis had advised he made a stew so he could prepare the room whilst it cooked. And also it was one of the simplest meals he could think of as if there was something d’Artagnan really wasn’t, it was a cook. However, Aramis had been confident if he followed the instructions perfectly then nothing would go wrong. It was a shame that d’Artagnan wasn’t the best at following instructions.

While the stew was boiling, he began to set the table. Unsure as to which flowers were Constance’s favourites, he had bought an assortment of them and placed them in various, random places in the room. Aramis had also mentioned that a darkened room created the best atmosphere and so he closed the curtains. Personally, d’Artagnan didn’t understand it, seeing as he could barely see, but he trusted Aramis’ judgements.

The last thing to do was to get changed and he put on the clothes Aramis had given him. They were slightly too big for him, he hadn’t bothered to try them on before accepting them, but d’Artagnan knew they were still better than his other clothes. With nothing left to do, d’Artagnan went over the compliments that Aramis had given him to say to Constance, making sure he was had everything prepared.

-

Constance had had a tiring day. She had travelled around Paris to find some new material and it had taken longer than expected, mostly because the men she had been buying them from had been more ignorant and vile than usual. Oh, how she longed to use some of the moves d’Artagnan had taught her, but as it was, she really needed the material if she was to get some money and she really did not fancy going to face the judge. At least she could look forward to an early night that evening, or so she thought.

Constance didn’t even have to open the door. The moment she touched the handle the door swung open, revealing d’Artagnan wearing far too long trousers and a shirt that swamped his frame. He looked like an over-grown child in them and Constance commended herself for not bursting into giggles at the sight.

“What on Earth are you wearing?” She asked, covering her hand with her mouth.

D’Artagnan looked slightly confused at her response. “What, do I not look good?”

“Those clothes are far too big for you,” she said, lifting the collar of the shirt which revealed quite a bit of his collar bone.

She saw d’Artagnan appeared quite put out at her response and unable to stand the sight of the face, she amended her statement. “But other than that they are very nice.”

The smile she received was worth it and d’Artagnan hastily pulled her inside, taking her bundle of cloth from her.

“What’s the rush?” She asked as she was led into the kitchen, blinking at the sudden loss of light. Eventually, they adjusted and through the light from the hall and coming from the slit in the curtain she could see that the room looked like it had turned into a garden, the amount of flowers that were around. She was about to ask about it, but d’Artagnan spoke first.

“It’s um…I’ve made dinner for us,” d’Artagnan said, pulling out a chair for her to sit down on.

“Dinner? Why?” Not that she didn’t appreciate it, but it was very unexpected. She could just about see d’Artagnan’s hesitant expression.

 “Because…you are an angel sent from heaven. If you were a tear in my eye, I wouldn’t cry for fear of losing you. Your eyes are like snow, no I mean your skin is like snow and your beauty is beyond compare. I dream of being with you, and…being with you is…,”

D’Artagnan stopped when Constance could no longer hold it in and she began laughing. “Oh, d’Artagnan, do you hear yourself? You sound like Aramis after a night out drinking.”

Constance’s laugh dissolved into the occasional giggle and she saw d’Artagnan look moments away from pouting.

“I thought you would like to be…”

D’Artagnan was cut off when pot which had been cooking the stew suddenly overflew and the flames beneath it grew, catching the curtain and setting it aflame.

“Fire!” Constance cried and d’Artagnan immediately lunged for the water and threw it upon the blaze. However, on his way, the flames caught his shirt and Constance stood to wrestle it off him before he got burnt, or at least she tried to as the shirt wouldn’t tear and d’Artagnan was too busy trying to stop the flames reaching the walls to help himself.

“Get that shirt off!” She shouted him, tugging at the sturdy material.

“I’m a bit busy making sure your house doesn’t burn down!” D’Artagnan replied loudly.

“You’re going to get burnt!” She replied stubbornly. With strength that surprised even her, she managed to rip the sleeve away just as d’Artagnan threw the last of the water that extinguished the flames. This strength, however, also caught d’Artagnan unaware and he tipped forward, losing his footing and crashing into the table, sending it, along with himself, to the ground. This in turn knocked some of the flowers over, sending a cascade of petals upon him.

Silence fell over them and with the curtains now almost completely cremated, there was more than enough light to see the sight d’Artagnan made. He was slumped against the now tipped table, a cloth he had laid upon it draped around his shoulders and his body covered in multi-coloured petals. Once again, she couldn’t help it. She laughed.

“I could be seriously injured, and you’re laughing!” D’Artagnan said indignantly though he couldn’t keep a smile from his face at seeing Constance laughing and realising what he must look like.

Eventually she calmed and Constance asked a question that she had been dying to ask since she walked through the door.

“So, what brought all this on then?”

D’Artagnan sighed, and dejectedly plucked petals off himself. “This was supposed to be a date. I asked Aramis for help but obviously he has no idea what he’s talking about. I’m sorry this was so awful.”

It all made sense now, and Constance gave d’Artagnan a soft smile. She had known about d’Artagnan’s affections for her, he was not subtle, and had been hoping that he may act on them for a while now. Her marriage was not a joyful one and though she knew it wasn’t proper, she knew she would rather be with d’Artagnan, even if his methods of seduction left something to be desired. Despite this, she had not laughed so much in a long while.

She knelt down onto the table and grinned at d’Artagnan who gave a cautious smile back.

“You are absolutely ridiculous,” she commented before leaning in and place her lips upon his. Unlike their previous kisses, which had been in the midst of danger and full of adrenaline, this one was soft and tender. It lasted only seconds but the moment they parted, a dopey grin adorned d’Artagnan’s face.

“You kissed me,” he sighed wistfully.

Constance snorted. “I did, and next time you think of doing something like this, don’t. You leave everything to me. Honestly, how much wine did you put in that stew?!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So he may have been unintentionally making her laugh...but this prompt just made the idea come to me.


End file.
